We put Mozart to sleep last night. There were many tears, and there will be more in the future. Boop came over to the apartment with Josie and spent the night, so we were all at least a little distracted by watching Josie and the cats eyeball each other.

The House Dog's Grave (Haig, an English bulldog)

I've changed my ways a little; I cannot nowRun with you in the evenings along the shore,Except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment,You see me there.

So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front doorWhere I used to scratch to go out or in,And you'd soon open; leave on the kitchen floorThe marks of my drinking-pan.

I cannot lie by your fire as I used to doOn the warm stone,Nor at the foot of your bed; no, all the night throughI lie alone.

But your kind thought has laid me less than six feetOutside your window where firelight so often plays,And where you sit to read--and I fear often grieving for me--Every night your lamplight lies on my place.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hardTo think of you ever dyingA little dog would get tired, living so long.I hope than when you are lying

Under the ground like me your lives will appearAs good and joyful as mine.No, dear, that's too much hope: you arenot so well cared forAs I have been.

And never have known the passionate undividedFidelities that I knew.Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided. . . .But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love enduresTo the end and far past the end. If this is my end,I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.